


I'll Take Care of You

by yucabell



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Alcohol, Canon-Typical Violence, Kidnapping, Knives, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Stockholm Syndrome, dance with the devil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 17:11:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13415820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yucabell/pseuds/yucabell
Summary: On the rare occasion Strade failed to find a drinking (or film) partner, his attention would turn to his favorite partner for the night.





	I'll Take Care of You

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted this to be a kinda "day in the life" with Strade and Ren but also kinda hint at how Strade affected who Ren became in BTD2? I dunno I just hope you guys enjoy it. 
> 
> "Hildegard Knef - Ich bin zu müde, um schlafen zu gehn" is the song I used for this fic.

Ren had learned early on that his situation was not abnormal for Strade. He wasn't special in being kidnapped and tortured, Strade's actions towards him were not unusual behaviors in the slightest. Though he was special for being alive. Not one person he had met in the basement after he had made his acquaintance with it could say the same. Being the person with such high honor of living, Ren had been rewarded with a room in the house and practical ownership of the entire first floor.

Strade spent most of his time in the basement.

Which is where Ren expected his roommate to return to once he found a bar patron to drag home with him. Fully expecting to be left alone for the night, Ren had poked his claws into some cubed meat and made himself comfortable on the couch for the first few hours. Shish-kabobing the meat on his nails and eating them off his fingers while the juice dripped into his palm and a rerun of Inuyasha played on the television. Eventually he made his way to his bedroom, where he would begin to doze off; curling up in his nest of blankets and shrouding his tail over his legs.

Often Ren would be woken up by thumps in the night -- normally Strade's heavy boots walking down the hall or a guest causing a ruckus in the basement. Though that night would be different, for the first time in the months he had been with Strade, Ren was awoken by the muffled sound of music.

A less cautious individual probably would have slept through the noise, remained curled up in the nest or bedding of their preference and missed the wonder that came with any sense of mirth that could be enjoyed by anyone with Strade. When a familiar thud of shoes hitting the floor obscured the melody, Ren's ears perked in a small sense of panic before he fully sat up in his blankets. His tail curled protectively around his waist while he looked to the door and eyed the light leaking through the cracks in the doorway.

When the music failed to stop Ren carefully got up and braced his hand on the door frame, delicately turning the knob with his other as he poked his nose through the crack and peeked out into the hallway just as the music stopped playing and a soft, almost static sound filled the air. When silence followed, he carefully stepped his way out into the hallway, standing at the top of the stairs and peering down momentarily into the living room with his ears perked in high alert.

Before he could properly assess the situation, Strade made his way out of the kitchen with a briskness that only came from a man with a sense of purpose. Ren's response was immediate; jolting at the sudden appearance and turning tail into his bedroom, slamming the door out of sheer surprise from Strade's unintentional jumpscare and unwittingly giving himself away.

"Ren? C'mere buddy. Don't be like that..." His voice was a bit playful, an indication of a good mood but Ren wasn't sure if this was a mood he could mirror. He didn't immediately open the door to go back to his roommate, but Strade came to him without a moment of hesitation, footsteps heavy on the carpeted stairs and coming to a stop in front of the door.

"Didn't you hear me? I said c'mere." Opening the door and shedding light into the darkened room and onto the scared little fox (who had taken a step back), the grinning German greaseball blocked his only route of escape.  Making it clear by his stance he wasn’t going to leave Ren alone.

Without so much as a warning, Strade reached out to grab Ren's rope-burned wrist, tugging the small man into the hallway and straight down into the living room. Upon passing the basement, Ren's shaky breath escaped him, relief clear on his face while he looked up at Strade and followed him to the den. When Strade dropped his wrist, Ren stayed where he was released -- hands nervously fidgeting together while he watched Strade make his way to a previously put away record player.

He glanced around the room, ears flat against his scalp as he took in his surroundings. Nothing out of the ordinary, though that was hardly saying much. It was almost unordinary that there was nothing remarkable in sight; no sign of any torture instruments or blood smeared against the floor. Though the record player was a new addition to the living room, it wasn't necessarily bad. Not everything with Strade was bad -- though the majority of things were. Ren jumped in surprise when the music started playing again, almost backing away in shock when Strade approached him again but before he could the bigger man wrapped an arm around Ren's waist and pulled him closer. He took Ren's hand and beamed down at him before beginning to sway with the song.

_Ich bin zu müde, um schlafen zu gehen,_

_Ich möcht' noch ein wenig reden;_

Ren's ears continued to lay flat on his head while he allowed himself to be moved, practically being dragged with the older man's movements as his feet stumbled in an attempt to keep up with the swaying. When he was pressed especially close to Strade's chest it became apparent the man had been drinking, if the lingering smell of yeast was anything to go by.

His anxiety was growing the more they swayed, sickening his throat and making him feel nauseous as Strade continued to rock them side to side. Neither of them were dressed for dancing -- Strade with his steel-toed boots and Ren barefooted, a near dangerous combination. But it didn’t seem Strade had any desire to stomp on the little piggies, if only for the time being.

“You’re...in a good mood.” Ren pointed out, nervously resting his hand in the crook of Strade’s arm while his other was held up as though they were ballroom dancing, although a little more captivating based on the fact that his wrist was being gripped rather than his hand.

Strade didn’t seem to even mind that Ren was nearly stumbling every time he forced motion out of him, still giving the smaller man a wide grin while they swayed. “Am I? I didn’t notice. Just felt like dancing tonight.” An explanation that didn’t make Ren feel any safer.

_So sitze ich seit Jahren, hasse die Stille,_

_liebe den Lärm, die schlaflose Nacht;_

Ren closed one of his eyes as Strade leaned down, pressing his lips against the side of Ren’s face and close to the juncture where his ear would connect if he were human. He couldn’t help but whimper as Strade’s breath hit his face, the underlying scent of his dinner being overwhelmed by the alcohol in his system. “S-since when do you dance?”

“I don’t.” He laughed, grinning as he pulled back and twirled Ren around without warning, purposely tripping him as he nearly made a full circle and biting his own lower lip a bit sensually as he watched him drop to the floor and land with a thud. Ren let out a little whine, beginning to lift himself from the floor and glancing up at Strade, whereas Strade wasted no time in crouching down beside him to gently stroke the back of his head.

The gentle touch turned harsh when Ren made eye contact with him, fingers twisting in his hair and yanking his head back to solicit a startled cry. “Ahh… I love hearing that.” He practically moaned, licking over his teeth while he moved down to bite into Ren’s shoulder. It was a harsh bite, all teeth and aiming to draw blood -- but he stopped himself as Ren began to cry. Instead he suckled the indentured skin, moving his free hand to turn Ren's face to him, forcing eye contact while he ran the flat side of his tongue over his sensitive skin.

Despite the time he’d spent with Strade, his fight or flight instinct kicked in when he wasn’t bound, causing him to struggle against Strade’s grip while his eyes watered. He promptly stopped when Strade pulled his knife out from the holster on his belt, eyes widening while he began begging.

“Please don’t, please please please!” He closed his eyes tightly amidst his crying when he felt the blade press to the skin of his neck, only to trail down his collarbone and catch on the strap of Ren’s tank-top, which a prompt tug quickly cut through. He flipped Ren over then, sitting his ass directly on Ren’s stomach and effectively squishing the boy while keeping him in place.

_So lebe ich seit Jahren, hasse die Ruhe,_

_liebe den Puls der eiligen Nacht;_

He could properly see the tears streaming down Ren’s scarred cheeks, a sight the man never grew tired of. He could almost fall asleep to the sound of Ren’s sniffling after a night spent together, dreaming of the activities they’d done and could do -- though when he was worked up their quality time was surely made of nightmares for the fox. Strade took his hand that wasn’t holding the knife, tugging down Ren’s tattered shirt a smidge to make the left side of his chest bare.

He cooed to Ren who continued to sniffle and cry and plea for mercy, “Aww buddy, don’t be like that. Don’t you trust me?” He slid his knife along Ren’s nipple, threatening to slice it off while the fox sucked in in an attempt to distance himself from the knife. With a wide grin and narrowed eyes, Strade began cutting into Ren’s chest; making a line with each flick of his wrist as though he were confidently painting a picture.

_Versinke im Licht des mutlosen Tages,_

_erwarte die Stunde der Nacht, meiner schlaflosen Nacht._

Ren’s screams took over the house as the music faded out, digging his nails into Strade’s arm as he cut into his chest. Although Strade made sure not to cut _too_ deep (he wanted to keep his fox alive after all), Ren’s nails dug harshly into Strade’s forearm to draw blood. Strade hardly seemed bothered by it, even as his blood dripped onto Ren’s chest as he continued his carving.

He was sobbing as Strade finished his masterpiece, pulling the knife back with an almost gentle smile on his face, gently tapping Ren’s nose with his bloodied finger. “It’s a heart! What do you think, mein fuchs? You know how much I love you, it’s a nice reminder, yeah?” Strade teased, licking over his teeth once more while he leaned down and slid his tongue over the open wound and sending Ren into another sobbing fit. He practically squealed, shoving on Strade’s head before delving off into a cry, his whole body jerking back as Strade’s tongue dug into his fresh wound and his chin stubble prickled along his raw skin.

Though the knife was soon put away, signalling Strade was done with the cutting and carving for the night, the pain still lingered as his blood spilled from his new wound. Ren made eye contact with Strade when the other man pulled back, mouth bloodied and tongue licking over his lips before he pressed a harsh kiss to Ren’s and practically engulfed Ren’s smaller mouth with his own.

Ren helplessly went limp as Strade grabbed the back of his head and kept him lip locked, tears steadily streaming down his face. When he finally pulled back Strade chuckled, rising from his spot on Ren and standing above him momentarily before crouching down and scooping the bloodied boy up. Ren continued to cry, though his hand still found its way to Strade’s shirt to grip it comfortingly as though he were afraid to be let go.

Strade hummed, carrying his fox to the bathroom to patch him up as the record’s white noise played behind him and Ren’s soft sniffling reigned in all his attention.

“Don’t worry,” He started, giving Ren the most gentle smile he could manage as he made his way upstairs with the boy in his arms. “I’ll take good care of you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I really have a hard time focusing on things so this took me forever to do. Kudos/comments are appreciated!


End file.
